


The Reality of It

by LisaDuncansTwin



Series: Fantasy or Reality? [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaDuncansTwin/pseuds/LisaDuncansTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantasy makes an appearance in reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reality of It

**Author's Note:**

> Co-Written with Lily 2004. Betaed by Mary, left unaltered. Previously appeared in Come To Your Senses 23 and My Mongoose Ezines, [Many, Many More Chapters of The Sentinel](http://mymongoose.populli.net/chpt3/cover.htm).

The bar was a dive, built on the outskirts of Cascade. Blair had no idea why he'd felt such an impulse to stop, but here he was, sitting in a smoky bar, drinking a halfway decent draft beer.

Glancing around, Blair took note of his surroundings. The bar itself was dimly lit, but there was enough light to see that there were few women running around which suited Blair. While he was a professed bisexual, in actuality, Blair preferred the company and companionship of men-all types of men, in any way, shape and form he could get them. And this bar definitely had a wide array of types of men. Blair's first thought upon taking in the crowd was that Boogie's was a gay bar, but upon closer inspection of the men, he withdrew that conclusion and put on his hetero hat and tried to keep his eyes to himself.

The trouble was, of course, that Blair was a people person; he loved watching people interact, that was why he'd been interested in anthropology so long ago. Naomi had shown him so many different cultures growing up, giving him free reign to see how life developed, that his interest in people had only grown stronger over the years.

Sipping his beer, Blair tried to see as much of the bar as he could in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar. There were two pool tables near the back of the bar, several men playing while others watched on. A dart board had attracted the attention of some big burly types who poured beer from pitchers like it was water.

Finally, his eyes fell on the crowd of men gathered around a table near the jukebox. They had closed ranks around a table, cheering and yelling loudly; Blair wondered if there was a card game going on.

A bellow of defeat startled Blair from his musings and he looked up from his beer in time to see the crowd draw back from the table they surrounded. A tall man stood up from his chair so quickly it skittered back into the men standing behind it. He pinned the man still sitting across the table from him with a dark, nasty look and then pushed his way through the crowd of men and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.

The crowd of men standing around the table laughed at the childish departure and then turned back to the man that had remained sitting motionless during the whole tirade.

Blair swallowed hard as his eyes savored the look of the man. He was perfection, chiseled steel wrapped in warm flesh. One of the men said something to him and the god laughed loudly, filling Blair's ears with a melodic resonance. Taking another drink of his warming beer, Blair tried to watch the man as covertly as possible.

The good looking man stood and two other men sat at the table and immediately locked fists in an age-old battle of strength. Blair had never really considered arm wrestling to be very much of a sport, but these men, their muscles bulging from underneath the edges of tee-shirts, made him reconsider that opinion.

He lost sight of the god as the crowd closed around the table again and turned back to finish his beer. Whatever he had been thinking by stopping at this bar, was over. He had to get back home and finish grading papers, the never ending bane of his existence.

"Another beer, Mike," a deep, oddly familiar voice said very near him.

Turning, Blair saw, up close and personal, the sweaty bicep of the god that has fascinated him so. Blair reached for his beer mug only to find it empty; looking for the bartender, Blair's eyes met the hunk's in the mirror behind the bar.

"And one for my friend," the hunk said, giving Blair a half smile.

Swallowing twice, Blair finally had enough spit in his mouth to make his lips work.

"Thanks, man."

Shrugging, the hunk reached into his front pocket, pulled out a few crumpled bills and tossed them onto the bar, then returned to the crowd of men.

Letting out a ragged breath, Blair caught a peek of the hunk's ass as he walked away.

"Don't let him catch you looking like that," the bartender said, leaning close.

Blair startled, embarrassed at having been caught ogling the handsome stranger, smiled sheepishly at the bartender.

Mike set the fresh mug of beer in front of Blair and then winked conspiratorially, leaning in and whispering, "I've been watching him myself, hard not to, but this isn't the place for that, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Blair said nodding his head, "I hear you."

Blair watched as Mike walked away, mixing drinks and filling up mugs. This was definitely not the kind of place to get caught checking out another man, not if he wanted to get out of here in one piece.

Another loud cheer from the arm wrestling table drew Blair's attention. The hunk had taken a seat again across from what Blair could only assume was the winner of the previous round.

The hunk's demeanor was cocky, arrogant... beautiful. He gave his opponent the most deadly smile Blair had ever seen, and then they clasped hands and the battle was on. The crowd had thinned out a bit, leaving Blair with a perfect view of the action. He read fierce determination in the hunk's sky blue eyes as he focused all his attention on beating his opponent. Blair watched as his lips pulled back in what could only be called a snarl and he triumphantly slammed his opponent's hand down on the table.

The crowd cheered loudly, several people clapping the hunk on the back as he smiled, completely full of himself and his victory. Blair could almost smell the testosterone and adrenaline filling the bar.

Feeling the effects of his first beer, Blair signaled Mike that he was going to the restroom and would be back, and then slid off the stool and headed past all the action.

Standing at a urinal, Blair sighed blissfully as he let loose. Beer went through him like water went through most people, which was why he usually preferred to drink it when he was out at a bar. When he wanted to get shitfaced, he preferred the hard stuff, tequila usually. _Lick it, slam it, suck it,_ Blair smiled.

Hearing someone else enter the bathroom, Blair glanced out the corner of his eye to see who it was. His heart pounded in his chest; it was the hunk! Trying not to bounce, Blair finished his business, flushed and turned around to wash his hands. As he was drying his hands, Blair's eyes rebelliously veered upwards and he watched the play of muscles in the hunk's shoulders as he shook off and zipped up.

Quickly, Blair dropped his eyes and left the bathroom without a backward glance, missing the blatant stare his ass received from the hunk.

Back at the bar, Mike refilled his mug as Blair sat down. A number of patrons had left in his absence; the men that had been shooting darts were now gathered around the arm wrestling table, adding fresh meat to the mix.

Sipping his beer, Blair watched the hunk exit the bathroom and survey the new crowd. Blair watched those blue eyes take in each new man, already sizing them up as potential opponents. A new man stepped up to the table and sat down for his turn. Blair turned away, not really interested unless it was the hunk participating.

A couple of the men at the bar were making bets on who would win, and Blair, the gambler at heart, took a new found interest. Swinging around, he watched as the newcomer easily defeat his opponent and looked for his next victim.

Deciding to get in on the next bet, Blair tossed a twenty-dollar bill onto the bar and bet on the former dart player. The guys at the bar accepted his bet, knowing the reputation of his new opponent, and predicting an easy victory.

As the newcomer relentlessly eased his opponent's hand to the table surface, Blair watched the hunk as he circled the gathered crowd. Blair shivered unconsciously, the pure animal magnetism of the hunk slowly evolving and reeling him in. His cock started to get hard with possibilities he was sure weren't going to happen.

As the win came and Blair collected his winnings, the hunk sat down beside him and ordered another beer. Blair tried to control his breathing and was almost successful until the hunk spoke.

"Don't bet too much on him, kid, he's going down soon."

Raising an eyebrow, Blair turned to him, "Oh? Are you going to take him down?"

Glaring at the tone of voice he heard, the hunk said, "You think I can't?"

Shrugging, Blair didn't answer.

"Would you like to make a bet on that?"

Looking at the forty dollars in his hand, Blair mentally calculated how much was still in his wallet. While he was pretty certain the hunk could take the newbie out, Blair thought that even if he lost to the hunk, it would still be fun, and would lengthen the time he could spend near this god.

"I've only got seventy-five bucks," Blair admitted. "But I'm game if you are."

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the hunk again looked at his proposed opponent and then back at Blair.

"Deal." They shook hands under the watchful gaze of the bartender and then the hunk slid off the stool, heading to the arm wrestling table.

Blair watched the current match come to an end; the loser stepped away and the hunk took his place at the table. Excitement coursed through Blair's veins as he watched the match begin.

The men were almost evenly matched and it was apparent from the first that this wouldn't be a quick victory for either. Sweat broke out across their brows as they concentrated on defeating their opponent. The cheering of the crowd grew almost deafening as the match continued.

Blair watched in rapt fascination, mesmerized by the intensity that crackled between the two combatants. And then it was over as quickly as it had started. With a cackle of victory, the hunk's opponent slammed his fist down and jumped up in victory.

The cheering was thunderous as his friends hugged and clapped him on the back. Their celebration spilled out of the bar and the silence left in their wake was almost as loud as their noise had been.

Blair turned back to the bar and waited for the hunk to join him; he didn't have to wait long.

Sitting down heavily, the hunk sighed deeply.

"Guess I owe you some money."

Blair nodded and watched the hunk reach into his back pocket. The frown that marred his face, made Blair turn at meet the hunk's eyes.

"Shit!"

"What?" Blair asked curiously.

"I, um... my wallet. I don't have it," the hunk said, standing and patting down all of his pockets. "Shit, I think somebody stole it."

Making a little 'oh' face, Blair shrugged and said, "Don't worry about it."

"No!" the hunk said vehemently. "We made a bet and I always pay my debts."

"Look, it's okay--"

"No! I would have made you pay up if I'd won."

"Well, yeah, but then," Blair said with a smirk, "I have the money."

Practically growling at Blair, the hunk sneered. "Well, how do you suggest I pay up, smart ass?"

The idea hit him in the solar plexus making him gasp at his audacity. His cock took an immediate interest in the idea of this hunk submitting to him, of making this gorgeous, arrogant man pay off his debt with that delicious ass.

As if he could read Blair's thoughts, the hunk leaned closer and laid a hand on Blair's thigh, whispering heatedly, "Why don't you fuck me and we'll call it even?"

Blair sucked in a ragged breath at the harsh, hot words, his cock throbbing in anticipation and he could only nod his head in agreement.

The hunk took the half finished beer from Blair's lax grip and tilted it up, swallowing the contents in two gulps. Setting the empty mug on the bar, the hunk nodded to the bartender and waited for Blair to react.

Finally, calm enough to think, Blair asked, "Did you drive?"

"Yes."

"Good. You'll drive us back to my place; that way I won't have to take you home afterwards." Blair hoped that the hunk couldn't sense his nervousness, couldn't tell that he had never done anything like this before. He didn't even recognize the person who was giving these orders so casually, but couldn't seem to stop himself because he'd never been in this situation before. Although there was the faintest color of ugliness to it, for the most part it was an exhilarating and irresistible proposition. And just like every forbidden fruit he'd ever tasted, this was going to be delicious.

Blair followed the hunk out of the bar and through the parking lot, admiring the long, solid lines of his back and the way that his ass moved under the tight jeans. In addition to being damn sexy, the way that the other man moved suggested that he was suffering from the same affliction as Blair. A rock-hard erection.

The blue pickup was parked on the very edge of the lot, shielded by a dumpster on one side, and a group of motorcycles on the other. Blair climbed in and they sat in silence for a minute before he realized that his date for the evening was waiting for directions. The realization that this strong, silent beauty was his to play with as he pleased hit him in a rush of sensual awakening. The cab of the truck was draped in shadows, shades of black and gray, with an occasional motion of light from cars or street lamps.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it," he breathed, rubbing his palm across his lap. An idea hit him that made him drop his head and moan lowly. He was not going to do this. He was not, he was not going to ask...

"I want you to suck me off," Blair said calmly, popping the button to his pants. The zipper seemed loud in the stillness of the night, and for a moment he thought he'd gone too far. But then the shadow was moving, shifting closer and a strong hand pushed his out of the way. He sat back and spread his legs as his cock was slowly eased out, and tipped his head back onto the seat.

He watched through slit eyes as the stranger lowered his head and began to suck on him, just as he'd ordered. A bolt of sexual pleasure shot through his entire midsection and he panicked, knowing that this was it, he couldn't last because men like this didn't suck guys like him off in parking lots! He was supposed to be the one on his knees in some grungy bathroom or a back alley behind the supermarket.

"Oh, God," he murmured, giving into the temptation to mold his hands around the soft bristles of his companion's head. Gently, he rubbed, as though he could stave off his orgasm with the languorous movements.

Within two minutes, the head was going up and down at a pace that Blair couldn't possibly keep up with, and he gasped out a quiet sound and came. Panting and shivering, he closed his eyes and by the time he opened them, he was zipped and buttoned, and the engine was rumbling beneath his feet.

"Thanks," he said, clearing his throat. In the sliver of moonlight that cut through the window, he could see the swollen redness of his stranger's mouth. He thought about kissing, wondered if it were allowed.

The decision was made when the handsome face turned to him and leaned in for a soft, wet kiss.

"Jim," he whispered contentedly.

***

By the time they arrived at the loft, Blair found that his adrenaline-induced boldness had somewhat deflated. When Jim stood in the middle of the living room and said, "What now?" rather cockily, Blair didn't reply.

What now, indeed. He was all too aware that if he did what he wanted, then Jim would **know** all of his secret kinks... but then... wasn't that what this evening was about? He shook off his doubts. This evening was his, and this man owed him a debt. That was all he needed to remember.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered. Jim's fingers began working the buttons immediately. "And your pants. In fact... I want you naked and upstairs in my bed in two minutes."

At this, Jim paused, and Blair blushed hotly, knowing that Jim didn't have a problem with nudity. The 'my bed' part had been a little audacious, and he'd hoped that Jim wouldn't notice.

Apparently he hadn't been offended, though, because a few moments later, Jim was upstairs as directed, naked and in bed. Blair stripped slowly on the way up, trying to narrow down the many, many things that he wanted from this gorgeous man.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he knew.

He settled onto the foot of the bed. "Spread your legs," he rasped, his voice husky with wanting.

Jim complied.

"Take your cock and stroke it," he continued, and watched, dry-mouthed as his orders were carried out immediately, willingly. Jim added his own flair to the motions, though, because Blair couldn't possibly instruct him on writhing his hips that certain way, or biting on his lower lip like it felt too good to withstand.

"Good. Now finger yourself. Two fingers," Blair instructed, tossing Jim the lube.

Two slick fingers first circled, then prodded, then slid into the hole, and Blair realized suddenly that they hadn't been lovers long enough for him to know if Jim was even into this, but apparently- he was.

Jim groaned, his eyes scrunched closed in concentration, and pumped the fingers in and out, thrusting his hips simultaneously. "What's the matter? I thought you were gonna fuck me," he gasped.

"I..." It was too much. Blair had wanted that more than anything, but something had happened to his brain when Jim's fingers had disappeared into his ass, and he couldn't find words nor thoughts to put into action. When he failed to respond, Jim sat up and reached for him, pulling Blair on top of him with lightning fast motion.

He could read it in Jim's blazing eyes. Too late. Jim had been willing prey in the game that Blair had planned, but now it was over, and all bets were off. A hot tongue licked its way around his lips until he opened up, allowing the erotic intrusion. Their bodies moved together frantically, and after a few minutes of desperate, wild kisses, the heat moved to his ear.

"What's the matter, little boy?" he breathed into the cup of Blair's ear, making him shudder violently. "Did you forget how to play?"

"No," he protested breathlessly. "I'm just getting my money's worth. Ever heard of taking it nice and slow?" He taunted, lacking the conviction of his words.

"Like you did in the truck?"

"Fuck you."

"You're all talk. Don't tell me that you brought a stranger into your home without knowing what you were going to do with him," Jim said, and slid his hand over Blair's ass, his fingers slipping in between.

Blair arched into the touch. Jim was so good at this, too good. He made it so easy to remember that Blair had brought him here for one reason: to use the ass that Jim so apparently liked to trade. _What a slut,_ Blair thought, but decided not to say it just in case Jim had some moral boundaries that Blair didn't know about.

"I do know what I'm going to do with you," he said, and rose up onto his knees between Jim's legs.

Even though he'd taken two fingers easily, Blair slid a finger into the hot, wet hole to make sure. Hastily, he slicked himself with lube, slowly fucking Jim with his finger the entire time, and barked, "Roll over. Get on your hands and knees."

Jim did as directed, feeling the tip of Blair's cock at his hole the instant he was over.

"Shit, Jim," he panted when his cock was enveloped by the delicious, yielding pressure of Jim's ass. His hips started rocking, trying to get deeper, to feel every delicious rub of friction that this act provided, and he loved it. Loved Jim, loved the way his arms looked gripping the railing, the beautiful muscles of his back flexing with exertion as he pushed back against Blair's cock.

His fingers raked down the curves and planes of Jim's muscular back, digging in, wanting to feel the strength. Blair gasped, frightened for a second by the intensity of his hunger for this man, because he'd never been this rough with anyone, never pushed his dick into anyone with this much force and never... slapped anyone's ass.

"God DAMN it!" he cried, because there had been the slap and now the red mark appearing on Jim's ass, and yes, he had done it, carried away by fantasy. Anyone trying to work off a debt with their ass could expect to be spanked, he supposed, and Jim began bucking wildly, so in an insane attempt to calm him the fuck down, Blair's hand came down again on the other cheek.

The bucking only increased with the second blow, and suddenly he was going even deeper, the ass tighter somehow, and his hand came down again and again, hard, encouraging more of this slutty, wanton behavior. His orgasm was a huge tidal wave threatening to break through the door but he held it off, focusing on the burning in his hand until Jim shuddered and arched and he shattered, let it flow over him and wash them both away in the roaring rush of devastation.

***

Somehow they managed to pull themselves together enough to get cleaned up and then fall back into bed, totally exhausted and extremely sated.

"You were amazing," Blair said sleepily.

"Me?" Jim asked with a laugh, snuggling closer. "You were fantastic."

They settled down then, letting the memories of their evening adventure wash over them. It had been a risky venture so early in their relationship, but it had brought them infinitely closer.

As sleep neared, Blair felt Jim's chest move in an aborted laugh, and then heard a faint whisper, "Next time, I get to spank **your** ass!"

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my co-author Lily. :) The first story just wasn't enough, we had to keep going!


End file.
